


On the Beach

by nothingeverlost



Series: The Librarian and the Bobbie [1]
Category: Hamish MacBeth (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anyelle, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish and Belle meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda_

The singing was terribly out of tune, something one might hear at the pub after a third round, when the air was thick with smoke and everyone was content. Once he might have smiled, and asked the singer to quite down a bit, or join in with the chorus.

_Who’ll come a waltzing Matilda with me?_

As he stood at the peek of the hill there wasn’t a reason to smile. There was only the cold steel in his hand and the knowledge that everything was his fault. Alex was dead, and the guilt of it was tearing him apart. 

_And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong_

He didn’t give a fuck about himself, the metal against his lips was testament to that, but the whole reason he’d come to the island was so no one else had to hear, or see, the aftermath. It would be a day before Wee Jock was taken to TV john, and another before he arrived by boat, to a deserted island.

Only it wasn’t deserted.

_Who’ll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?_

He found her on the beach, a woman close to Alex in age, but different in every other way. She was short where Alex was tall, her hair a rich brunette rather than blonde, and she barely looked at him as he approached.

"I heard you singing." She wasn’t dressed for the weather. Not someone from around the area, then, not if her posh clothing told an accurate story.

"I’m sorry, it’s a nervous habit of mine."

"Nervous?" He didn’t see a boat, but she seemed to be doing nothing more than standing on the beach and watching the waves.

"I read a book about the second World War, once. There was a chapter about land mines." She looked down at her left foot. He looked too.

"Fuck," he swore.

"So I was right." She staggered, but caught herself. "I was afraid of that."

"How long have you been here." He took a step closer, even when she held up a hand as if to stall him.

"A few hours. Please, you can’t come any closer." Her voice shook. A few hours might not seem much, until you can’t risk moving even an inch. "You need to move back."

"I’m not going anywhere." Her skin was cold, more shock than weather he would guess. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"If I move…"

"I’m going to stay here and make sure you don’t move." He couldn’t leave her to die alone, not like he’d left Alex alone. "I’m Hamish."

"Belle," she said, stiffening a little as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I’m Belle."


	2. Lean On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later the same night

"Hamish." He was heating soup over the campfire when she called out to him. He had just a moment to realize that the sun was setting before he looked over his shoulder.

"Dinner’s almost ready. Something warm will be good for you."

"It’s getting late, Hamish. You should take my tent and go farther down the beach, set up a camp before you lose all the light." She was calm, even smiling a little. Her chin was tilted up; if it wasn’t for the look in her eyes he would almost think there was nothing wrong.

"I’m not going anywhere." He looked down at her foot on the landmine, still unmoving for the six hours he’d been there, and the hours before that. "Do you want crackers with your soup?"

"You’ve done everything you can, and more than anyone could expect. I need you to leave." A hint of desperation crept into her voice. Not for herself, he knew. She wanted to save him, and didn’t understand that it wasn’t worth doing.

"There’s some biscuits in here for dessert, if you’re still hungry after the soup. Some sand got into the bag, it looks like, but…"

"I need you to do this for me, Hamish. I don’t want to hurt you. Please don’t let me hurt you." He wasn’t a big man, but his jacket was large on her, covering her hands and making her look younger than she was. And yet her voice was old, and tired. "One last wish, Hamish."

"You’re not dying." He wanted to shake her until she stopped looking at him with resignation in her eyes. The soup could boil over or burn for all he cared; he abandoned it to the fire.

"You’re not dying," he repeated as he wrapped his hands around her upper arms and lightly covered her foot with one of his own. "I won’t allow it."

"I’m so tired." Her bowed head touched her shoulder, and somewhere in her words he heard an exhaustion that spoke of more than just today.

"Lean on me, Belle. Just lean on me." He’d failed Alex. He wouldn’t let the same happen to Belle. She wasn’t alone, not now, and he wouldn’t walk away. 

"It helps when you talk. I can forget for a little bit." She didn’t relax against him, but she didn’t fight him either. She didn’t push him away.

"I have a mate by the name of TV John. You’ll never guess how he got the name…"


End file.
